


Fire Justice

by Dragonsigma



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Gen, The Lawyer Theory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 23:07:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2485595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonsigma/pseuds/Dragonsigma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By her age, her tutors all say, her father had travelled the world, ended a war, and endured far worse than she can imagine. And become a brilliant leader for it all. How can she hope to be as good? So the Fire Princess goes to Republic City, and finds a calling in law.<br/>And so when Toph Beifong and the Avatar come to her and tell her they have a lead on the infamous criminal Yakone, she takes the case without hesitation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire Justice

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based on tumblr user xopheonixfireox's theory that the prosecution lawyer at Yakone’s trial was actually Zuko’s daughter. It's a bit far-fetched, but the discussions have been fun, and I found the idea of the Fire Princess going to Republic City to study law too good a story to pass up.  
> Thanks to fatherlordzukoz for advice!  

   She’s listened to all her tutors’ lectures, watched countless state meetings, and scoured the library for every book she can find on governing, even begged her father’s advisors to teach her more. But it isn’t enough. She cannot learn to help her people, weigh advice, run a country, from within the walls of this palace. It’s not that she’s never been outside- she’s wandered the city, flown to distant villages with her father on formal visits, and met the Avatar on Air Temple Island. Still, she feels, she knows, she hasn’t _done_  anything yet.

     By her age, her tutors all say, her father had travelled the world, ended a war, and endured far worse than she can imagine. And become a brilliant leader for it all. How can she hope to be as good? How can she learn her nation’s place in this world, her own place in this world, if she does not explore it? 

     She needs to leave the Fire Nation, find somewhere where she’s needed, and do some good at last. A job. A job that doesn’t involve too-patronizing officials who she knows are often just humoring the woman they still see as a little princess. Mother, she knows, will agree. She hates the stillness as much as her daughter, knows what it’s like to be out in the world working towards a goal.

     The problem is Father.

     Father, spirits bless him, fears for her a little too much sometimes. Though she’d learned to accept the events and trips cancelled on short notice because of threats the Firelord couldn’t afford to not take seriously, she still needs more freedom, more space. He does has cause to fear- there have been three attempts on her life that she knows of, and probably more thwarted in the planning. Once, when she was an infant, an assassin disguised as a nursemaid. But Mother had seen the weapon before any of the guards had, and made quick work of the impostor. And again, when she was ten and slipped away from her guard in the city market, and stumbled upon a drunken politician, angry at some policy or other of her father’s. He’d stabbed her before the guards caught up, not badly, but enough to bleed and leave her out of training for weeks. 

     That was when she’d vowed never to give her father cause to cry for her again.

     The last time somebody tried to kill her, she was ready, and had the assassin pinned to the wall by her mother’s knives before he even laid a hand on her. After that incident, no one could say the Princess of the Fire Nation didn’t know how to defend herself. 

     But Father still fears, still frets. And so she talks to Mother, studies books on Republic City, and relentlessly questions those in the court who have lived or visited there. She takes days to craft her argument, find answers to all the protests Father will come up with. 

     And then she finds him, on a quiet day after a particularly fruitful meeting, and she asks to be allowed to travel. 

     After much debate, he says yes. 

~o~

     She makes one concession to her father’s concerns. The bodyguard she brings along is an old friend of her mother’s, a beautiful and dangerous woman in Kyoshi armor who tells stories and laughs brightly when her charge is not in danger. 

     She visits Air Temple Island and spends a few days with Avatar Aang, Katara, and the acolytes. Aang tells her stories of her father and shows her around the city, then directs her to Councilman Sokka, who gladly allows her to sit in on several meetings of the city governors. One of these meetings is a trial, the hearing of a man accused of murdering a merchant in an exchange of stolen goods gone wrong. 

     When the trial goes to recess, it seems the man will go free. But she notices a point in his defense that just doesn’t make sense, a point the other side hasn’t mentioned. Gathering up her confidence and expecting to be ignored or shot down, she approaches the attorney. And to her astonishment, Maya listens. And then brings her partners over to hear. They scribble notes frantically as she explains over and over again the hole in the case, glancing at each other and exchanging hopeful nods.

     And when the damning evidence is presented and the criminal is locked away, she feels a great sense of satisfaction in knowing that justice will be done, that he will never be able to kill again.

     After the trial, she decides to approach the attorney and ask to be taught, and finds Maya already waiting.

     She is told, firmly, that her rank will afford her no privileges, but she doesn’t care. As long as she can do good, she will work as hard as she needs to.

     True to her word, for the first two years, Maya allows her only background work on small cases. She’s reasonably good at investigating, and her work is vital to the success of several convictions. She begins writing statements when Maya’s partner drops out of a case, and it’s not long after that that she’s speaking in court. 

     Her first case goes badly. The defendant has too many people willing to speak in his defense, and although she’s certain the alibi is fake, she simply doesn’t have enough evidence to convince the judge. Justice, she learns, is not always possible. Maya tells her not to lose hope, and so she moves on to her next case.

     She wins that one.

~o~

     A few years later, Avatar Aang knocks on her door.

     She’s heard of Yakone before, everyone has. Heard his name from the innocent and criminal both, seen his sneering face in the newspapers. He’s been at large for years, accused of dozens of crimes, and rumored to possess an unnatural bending talent.

     And so when Toph Beifong and the Avatar come to her and tell her they have a lead, she takes the case without hesitation.

     She wastes no time in compiling the evidence. Beifong’s people send her the reports, and she begins tracking down the victims, getting new testimonies, following Yakone’s influence deep into Republic City’s criminal underworld.

     It’s only a few weeks before Yakone’s cronies try to kill her and a client. They don’t get much further than the office door before one is sprawled in a heap at her bodyguard's feet, the other pinned to the office wall.

     She calls Aang about hiring a guard for the terrified merchant, who is certain they will come for him again. The Avatar agrees, and she cancels her fancy dinner that night to spend the evening drinking tea with her client until the guard arrives, keeping a watchful eye out for more criminals. None come. 

     Most nights, she leaves the office late, heartsick from recording all the stories of Yakone’s abuses. She doesn’t care that most of the people he’s forced his abilities on are fellow criminals. _Nobody_  deserves that kind of treatment. Not the criminals he uses, not the innocent shopkeepers and police officers he bends to his will. And all the stories lead to the same answer- the same impossible answer.

     Everybody knows, bloodbending without a full moon is simply not possible. But there is no other way Yakone can do what he does. No other answer that makes sense. And it would be an insult to the people she listens to day after day to simply throw out his conviction on the basis of what _everybody knows._

     On the day of the trial, she delivers her speech while Yakone sneers, secure in his all-too-logical defense. Her clients stand to speak, though some tremble in fear of the man they accuse.

     And then all that’s left is the decision. 

     The pride and relief she feels hearing Councilman Sokka’s verdict is worth all the sleepless nights spent working on the case. For one blissful moment, all is right. And then it isn’t. 

     Years of watching for assassins have trained her awareness to a knife’s edge, but even she isn’t prepared for what Yakone does next. Before she can react, she is forced to her knees, choking down a cry of pain at the cramping muscles suddenly useless against Yakone’s bloodbending. For several long, agonizing moments, it’s all she can do to endure. And then she sees a flash of light out of the corner of her eye, as Aang breaks free from Yakone’s control and pursues him out of the building. Yakone’s hold over her body abruptly breaks, and she falls to the floor to pant in relief for a few moments before gathering the energy to stand and follow to where the Avatar has chased him. 

     She watches as Aang takes Yakone’s bending, doing what he’s only done once before, thirty years ago, done to her grandfather to end a century-long war. 

     Yakone will never bloodbend again. 

     She is viciously glad of it. 

~o~

     When he hears about what happened at the trial, her father nearly sends out an army to bring her home. But she wants to keep working, and with Aang and Sokka’s help, she eventually convinces him to let her stay. 

     She has criminals to catch, after all. And someday, a country to run. 


End file.
